


Nate Fick gets inked

by accol



Series: 2+2 Verse [3]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Marking, Tattoos, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-13
Updated: 2011-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-15 21:12:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accol/pseuds/accol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nate's story while Brad, Ray, and Walt are deployed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nate Fick gets inked

**Author's Note:**

> Based on fictionalized portrayals in the HBO miniseries _Generation Kill_.

The New Year’s Party had been combined with the farewell party.  The unit was leaving for a three month deployment to somewhere in the Mediterranean on January 2.  Nate didn’t get to know the specifics anymore.

Nate found the whole thing pretty much awful.  He finally appreciated what all the wives and girlfriends went through, and it fucking sucked.  Nate was feeling sorry for himself, and he decided he had it  far worse  than the wives since he and Brad (and Walt and Ray) were still a big secret.  (Five months all of them had been living under the same roof and no one had asked any suspicious questions because they were being unbelievably careful.  Recon Marine-style meticulous.)  Nate was pissed not only because he was not going to get laid for three months, but, if he admitted it to himself, because he was jealous of Walt and Ray.  They got each other  and  they got Brad.  Nate was probably jealous of the whole fucking platoon because they got Brad.  Nate was going to be lucky to get one phone call during the deployment.

All of that meant he was far from being the life of the party.  It should have been fun.  The wives and the guys with kids had bailed hours ago, and now there was booze, music and shirtless Marines playing football in the back yard.  Nate felt like an outsider... Hell, he  was  an outsider now.  So he mostly stayed on the sidelines, keeping the guac bowl filled and the beer flowing.

Brad found him in the kitchen at 5 minutes to midnight.  

“C’mere,” he said, snagging Nate’s shirt with one finger as he walked by out into the garage.  Brad pushed Nate into the darkest corner and shoved his tongue in his mouth.  Brad’s adrenaline was obviously pumping.  He was keyed up by the other Marines, playing football, and the impending deployment.  Nate had known the feeling once, the need to conquer something.  Now, Nate just felt desperate and lonely, maybe more than a little frustrated that he wasn’t going with them.  All of this manifested in a overwhelming need to devour each other like they may never get another chance.  Brad squeezed Nate’s ass, and they rubbed together until it almost led to something unwise. The sound of the guys in the yard cheering about fireworks down by the beach yanked them back to reality.  Nate gave Brad a lips-pressed-together look that said “we’re going to get caught in here,” grabbed some more beers from the garage fridge, and went back outside.

Around 02:00, enough people had sobered up to drive everyone else home.  That left the four of them in the house with only one day before Brad, Ray, and Walt had to report for duty.

It was a race to see who could get upstairs first.  Brad and Nate won, mostly because they were bigger and less drunk.  Ray slipped near the top of the stairs, so Walt just flipped him over and ground against him right there.  Ray pushed with his elbows to make it the rest of the way up. He was going to be bruised all down his back tomorrow, but he didn’t fucking care in the slightest.  He’d blame it on Rudy and the football game.  This was the last night Ray was going to get to fuck Walt for months, and there was no way in hell he was going to take his mouth off of Walt’s lips to climb the stairs like a normal, upright-walking human.  They squirmed up to the landing and writhed on the rug.  

“Fuck, Walt, hurry up!”  Ray said.  

“I’m fucking trying,” Walt hissed.  There was a huge clunk when Walt threw Ray’s boots over the stair rail.  He sat astride Ray’s waist, and their hands tangled as they tried to undo each other’s pants.

“God!  Ray!  Just do your own,” Walt whined.  Ray’s tongue ran across his lips as he drank in the sight of Walt’s naked chest.

Nate and Brad had made it all the way to their doorway.  Nate had Brad pinned against the jamb and was holding Brad’s wrists above his head.  Nate buried his face in Brad’s neck and sucked.  He desperately wanted to leave his mark on Brad’s body.  Something that claimed Brad as his.   Too conspicuous here , Nate thought.  He’d put one on Brad’s ribs later... something that could be explained away as a football thing.

“I don’t want you to go,” Nate whispered against Brad’s lips.  Touching each other when Walt and Ray could see them was one thing.  They’d all accidentally and irreversibly crossed that bridge months ago.  But Ray and Walt didn’t need to hear every last word they said.

“I want you to go with me,” Brad whispered back.  Both were impossible requests, and they knew it.  They kissed with eyes open; it felt more real that way.  They communicated better that way.  They had to see every second of each other while they could.  

“Fuck me.  I need you to,” Brad begged under his breath.  “I want to still feel you when we take off.”

Something in Nate broke.  He was irrationally furious for a moment; fucking pissed off at this whole situation.  Secretly being in love with a Recon Marine who used to be under his command and was now about to deploy without him was  stupid .  He shoved Brad into their room, grabbing him around the chest and flinging him onto the bed.  He forcibly pulled off Brad’s clothes, climbing on top of him and planting his palms on Brad’s upper chest.  Nate leaned forward, pressing Brad into the bed.  His eyes flashed with lust and anger.

“I will find a way to kill you again if you get yourself dead over there,” Nate said clearly.  For that moment, Nate sounded like the LT again.  Ray and Walt sat up for a second and looked into the room, and then at each other, but they had their own last wishes to fulfill.  Ray dragged Walt to his feet and pulled him by the wrist into their room.

“Let’s go, homes!  Time’s wastin’ and I got important shit to do.  And by ‘important shit’ I mean: let’s fuck.”

No one shut their doors that night.

Nate didn’t drive them to the base.  He went to campus instead and lost himself in the stacks for days.  Letting grad school swallow him whole was the only thing that was going to get Nate through.  He enrolled in an extra class, taking him four credits over a standard load, just to be sure.  It felt better this way.  If Brad, Walt, and Ray were going to be working under fire and sleeping on the ground, then Nate was going to push himself to the limit too.  After 3 weeks, the librarians had stopped trying to get him to go home.

At midterm, seven weeks into their deployment, Nate’s phone finally rang.

“Fick here,” he answered.  It was sometime in the middle of the night, and he’d fallen asleep in one of the study carrels.

“Nate,” came a relieved sounding voice.

“Brad?”

“Yeah.”

Nate exhaled sharply and fuck if he didn’t feel his throat closing with emotion.  “You guys ok?”

Brad whispered, “Yeah.  Miss you though.”

“Me too.”

“Did I wake you up?”

“I was asleep in the library, so probably good timing.”

“Listen...,” Brad started.  Nate’s stomach lurched at the tone Brad was using.  

“Brad, what?”

“They’re keeping us for another month.  You read the news, so I am sure you’ve guessed what we’re doing here.”

“Shit.”

“Yep.”

Nate sighed and rubbed his forehead with his free hand.  “Are you alone?”

“Alone enough.  Ray and Walt are here, but we only have another minute or two.”  Nate heard Brad talk to Ray and Walt for a second.  “You two, fuck off... Yes, he fucking says ‘hi’... I don’t care... Give me a minute.”  Then he came back to the phone and spoke quietly.  “They miss the house.”

Nate understood what Brad meant.  “Brad, fuck, I miss you.”

“Me too.”

“You guys getting mail?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll send you a copy of Juggs,” Nate joked.

“Ray and Walt can fight over it.  That’s not what I need for a jack.”  Brad sighed.  “Send me something better.”

“You want Playgirl?”  

“Shut the fuck up, unless you’ve been modeling between classes.  Send me a bar of your soap.”

Nate pictured Brad in the shower, taking a deep inhale of the soap and using the lather...  “Consider it done.  If you were here, I’d grab your ass.”

“‘Company’ arrived.  Have to go.  Me too.”  And that was the only call that Nate got.

Fifteen weeks into the deployment and it was finals week.  Nate was acing every one of his classes.  The other students probably hated him for throwing the curve off.  He didn’t fucking care what they thought.  He was doing this to survive.  

In the empty late-night hours when Nate’s focus faltered, he thought of Brad’s tattoo.  And Walt’s and Ray’s.  He didn’t know why his mind chose that as the part of them he remembered.  Nate’s fantasies had started revolving around his memories of that fuckhot, desperate night after the New Years party.  He remembered seeing Walt’s forearm as Walt forced Ray’s lips to his.  He remembered Ray’s chest turning pink under his tattoo as he and Walt wrestled out of their clothes on the landing.  He remembered Brad’s lower back as he had arched into Nate’s thrusts.  He remembered how they could hear Walt and Ray in the next room, and it had been so goddamn hot.  But it was always thoughts of the tattoos that made him come hard.

The day after finals were over, Nate woke in his bed.  It felt cold and huge, same as it had for what seemed like forever now.  

“Two weeks,” he said to the empty room.  That was when Brad, Ray, and Walt were due back Stateside.  He laid there for a long time before he could pry himself out of bed.

He had an internship lined up, but it didn’t start for another couple of weeks.  He had time to kill and it was making him go stir-crazy.  He ran on the beach that morning, ostensibly to feel closer to Brad by watching the surfers, but all he could think of were those tattoos.  When he got home, he jerked off in the shower to the tattoos.  He made a sandwich for lunch and absently drew a star with the mustard because of Ray’s tattoo.  

“FUCK!” Nate yelled to the empty kitchen.  He slammed the plate and sandwich down next to his laptop and got to work.

Two days of research on content and methods later, Nate was pulling up in front of a shop in North County.  He walked in and handed the artist a sketch.

“You’re the one who called?”

“Yep.”

“Looks good.  No color work?  Should only take this one sitting then.”

Nate nodded and took off his shirt.

Twelve easy (less stir-crazy) days later, Nate had just finished loading the dishwasher when Walt and Ray came tearing in through the garage.  

“Homes!”  

“Hey, Nate!”

They crushed him between them in a rib squeezing hug.

“Glad you didn’t get yourselves killed.  How were the skin mags I sent?”

“Not as good as dreamin’ of Walt’s pretty ass,” Ray said as he humped Nate’s leg.

“Nice,” Walt said.  “Right back atcha, you crazy motherfucker.”  Walt leaned around Nate’s shoulder and kissed Ray hard.  Ray even stopped grinding against Nate’s ass, the kiss was so long overdue.  

“Fuck, I missed that,” Ray gasped.  

Brad came in the door with two huge rucksacks over his shoulders.  He stifled a laugh when he saw Nate’s position.  

“I’ve only been gone for four months, and you’re shacking up with these two?”  

Nate didn’t even care that he was stuck in the middle of Ray and Walt’s make out session. “Well, you didn’t call, so...”  

“I called,” Brad smiled as he dropped the bags in the entryway.  

“Once.”

“Thought about you.  Does that count?”  Brad walked across the kitchen.

“About what specifically?”

“This.”  And then Brad was kissing him, right over Walt’s shoulder.  Nate felt like he was the one coming home.  

Brad was already trying to lift Nate’s shirt over his head, but Walt was in the way.  Nate elbowed Walt to the side and pressed himself against Brad, forcing him against the fridge.  

“Couch,” Walt mumbled against Ray’s neck.  He backed Ray out into the living room.

Brad finally got Nate’s shirt off.  Nate wondered how long it would take him to see...  

“Fuck, Nate.  I missed you,” Brad whispered into his neck, inhaling a deep breath.  Brad pulled at Nate’s sweatpants.  “You dressed up for me?”

“Affirmative, if by that you mean I’m wearing something easy to get out of,” Nate panted against Brad’s cheek.  He was half hard and Brad had barely touched him.  

Brad dropped to his knees, still in his utilities, and started pulling Nate’s sweats over his hips.  Then he saw Nate’s tattoo and froze.

Brad looked up at Nate, who was smiling defiantly, and Brad’s mouth dropped open.  Nate waited for him to say something, but all he got was the beginnings of a surprised smile.

“Hasser!  Person!  Get in here ricky tick,” Brad called.  “You’re not gonna fucking believe this,” he said more quietly as he gaped at Nate’s side.  

A couple of disappointed groans came from the living room.  Brad’s fingers ran over Nate’s skin.  It had just finished healing.  

“Right where...” Brad whispered, looking up at Nate.  Nate nodded.  It was the same place Nate had sucked a mark onto Brad’s ribs the night before he deployed.  Brad softly ran his lips over the tattoo.  

“The fuck, Brad,” Ray said, holding his pants up with one hand.  Walt was in his skivvies and was carrying his shirt in front of his crotch.  “You called us in here to watch you suck off your boyfriend?  Thanks and everything, but...”

Brad’s position was blocking their view so he slid to one side, keeping a hand on Nate’s mostly uncovered ass.  Ray and Walt looked at Nate’s ribs, and then his face, and then repeated both.  Ray fish-mouthed a couple of times.  Walt was beaming.

“Ray has never been speechless in his life so I must have done it right,” Nate said.

“Sweet,” Walt said.  He came over for a closer look.  Ray joined him, still silent.

“Why now?” Brad asked.

Nate shrugged.  “You guys talked me into it.”  He laughed at the puzzled looks he got in return. 

“Does this mean you’re gonna re-up?” Ray asked, pointing at Nate’s tattoo.  It was 1st Recon’s skull and crossbones overlaying a black diamond and capped by the phrase “Speak without saying a word,” part of the Recon Marine creed.

“No,” Nate laughed.  “Just... seemed appropriate.”  

“Fuck that,” Walt said. “Quit being vague.  What’s the story?” 

Nate took a deep breath and laid it out for them.  “For three and a half months I threw everything I had at grad school.  I slept in the library more often than not.  My classmates probably fucking hate me because I killed everything.”

“Course you did,” Ray interrupted.  He was blowing on the end of his finger like it was a Wild West gun barrel.  

“Ray, zip it,” Brad said.  He squeezed Nate’s ass and smirked up at him.  Nate hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the “I love you” ass grab until right now.

“When the semester was over, I didn’t have anything to fill the time with.  My brain didn’t have anything to work on but memories, and your tattoos were all I was thinking about.”  Nate was mostly directing this to Brad.

No one said anything for the better part of a minute.  

“Say what?” Ray finally asked.

“I don’t fucking know.  It was like an obsession.”  

“So... I had your bar of soap, and you had a mental picture of our tattoos?” Brad asked.

“Pretty much.”

Walt and Ray burst into laughter.  “Sweet!  Brad, Nate’s been jerking it to thoughts of us!”  

“Shut up, Ray,” Nate and Brad said together.  

“It’s awesome... and fitting,” Brad said quietly to Nate.  

Nate pulled Brad up off his knees.  He kissed him hard and hot before pushing him toward the living room.  Ray and Walt ran ahead of them, laughing that they had already called dibs on the couch.  Brad sat down in one of the recliners and pulled Nate on top of him, wedging his knees along the armrests.  

Sporadic laughs, truly happy ones, were coming from the couch along with a boot and a couple pairs of underwear.  

Brad pressed Nate up so he could get a close look at Nate’s ink.  “Speak without saying a word,” Brad read quietly.  His fingers were tracing the lines on Nate’s skin.  He looked up and locked eyes with Nate.  Nate nodded almost imperceptibly.

“The memory of that last night you were here.  The way your back looked.  How it looked when I was fucking you,” Nate said softly.

Brad nodded just as subtly and then pushed Nate’s pants lower.  “I’m really going to enjoy this,” Brad said before taking Nate’s cock in this mouth.

Nate hissed with pleasure.  He gripped the back of the chair and moaned.  “You’re gonna make me come doing that in your cammies.  This is how I fucking imagined you our whole time in country when I couldn’t even touch you.  Why haven’t I ever made you wear those to bed before?”

The rumble of laughter in Brad’s throat felt fantastic.  The mumbles of agreement from the couch only made Brad laugh again.  Nate grabbed the fabric of Brad’s shirt at the shoulder, trying to pull him closer.  Brad pulled off with a slurp and sucked on Nate’s balls while his hand stroked him slow.  

“Uhhhnn.  Make me come or fuck me, I can’t wait any more,” Nate begged.

“Impatient?”

“You aren’t?”  Nate’s voiced cracked.  

“I miss the taste of you,” Brad said in a low voice before taking Nate’s cock in his mouth again.  Nate’s balls were slick with spit, and Brad rolled them together in his hand.  He ran a finger back, toward Nate’s ass.  Just the idea of Brad working him open was enough to send a jolt of pleasure to Nate’s cock.  He thrust his hips toward Brad’s mouth, using the rocking motion of the chair to drive deeper.  Brad forced him back, with a strong hand on Nate’s hip.  Brad’s mouth was hot and his tongue vibrated past the underside of Nate’s cock so much better than Nate’s own hand ever did these last four months.  

Nate caught a glimpse of Walt’s tattoo as his arm shot up to grip the back of the couch.  Ray’s naked calf extended past the end of the couch, and Nate saw another tat there that he hadn’t noticed before.  Ray’s head was bobbing in and out of view.  Walt was moaning his approval.  Nate looked down at Brad’s tongue, licking the head of his cock, and his lips as they swallowed him.  Brad looked up at Nate, and that shared look was all it took.  Nate came with a strangled moan, thrusting to the back of Brad’s throat.

Brad eased Nate down onto the floor.  Nate tried to steady his breathing, but it was nearly impossible when Brad unbuttoned his shirt with his back to Nate.  He slid it off one arm and then the other, finally giving Nate a view of what he’d been fantasizing about for so long.  

“Jesus, Brad.”  Nate pushed his pants off his legs, feeling his cock stirring already.  “Before you deploy next time, I am going to take some fucking pictures.  You are so...”  Even with his substantial vocabulary, Nate had no clue what the right word was to describe Brad Colbert.  “...goddamn, holy mother of God, fucking gorgeous.”

Brad smiled at him.  “Shut it, Nate.  You’re gonna embarrass yourself.”

“I don’t even care.  Come here.  I’ll undo your boots,” Nate said, sitting up.  Brad stood over him.  Nate started untying the long laces, but got distracted by more important things.  Nate mouthed at Brad’s cock through the fabric of his cammies.  He worked on the other boot, and then passed back for another taste.  Nate smiled into Brad’s groin when he heard Walt let out a string of curses to praise Ray’s tongue as he came.

“It’s good for something other than witty turns of phrase,” Ray gloated.

“Get up here,” Walt ordered, laughing while he pulled Ray up for a deep kiss.  “I fucking love you, you hick.”

“Walt...”  Ray sounded embarrassed.  He put his fingers over Walt’s lips and Walt kissed them.  

“It’s true,” Walt whispered.

“Does that mean you’re going to let me have my way with you?”

“Fuck yeah, it does.”

Nate had Brad’s boots untied finally.  A messy, wet spot was discoloring the front of Brad’s pants where Nate’s tongue had been stroking him through the fabric.  Brad was forcing his breathing to be slow, but Nate’s touch kept making his breath hitch. 

“Off,” Nate said.  Brad toed off his boots and his pants, and then kneeled over Nate’s lap.  Their bodies were pressed together, finally skin to skin after so long apart.  

Brad brought his mouth to Nate’s ear and whispered, barely over a breath so only Nate could hear.  “I can’t believe you got inked.  It’s so fucking hot.  I’m going to see it through my fingers when I’m holding you, when I’m fucking you.”  

His words were hot on Nate’s neck.  His fingers were running over Nate’s tattoo where the skin was still raised slightly.  He pulled back and looked into Nate’s eyes for a moment before whispering again.  

“You know that hickey was there for weeks before it finally faded.  And my ass felt you for days.”  

His hands were all over Nate, and Nate reciprocated.  They slowly rocked together.  

“Your ink... There’s no way I could have dreamed up a better homecoming.  It’s like finding the secret prize at the bottom of the Cracker Jacks or some fucking thing.  Fuck, Nate.  I’m going to come so hard.”  

Nate saw the intensity in Brad’s eyes, and was sure it was mirrored in his own.  He wanted to feel Brad’s weight pressing on him.  He wanted to hear Brad tell him he loved him, even if it was only a whisper that no one else would ever hear.    

“Let’s find out,” Nate said, pushing Brad up and heading for the stairs.  A little louder, he said, “I put a bottle of slick in every room of the house just in case.”

“Fucking boy scout over here,” Ray said between grunts.

“Nice one,” said Walt.  His hands were all over Ray’s cock.  “Hand it over.”

“End table,” Nate said with a happy smirk before Brad silenced him with his tongue and an ass grab.


End file.
